


Does The Rest Of The World Know There's No Stopping Us All?

by orphan_account



Series: Fluent in Stroll [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, slow build to a threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-20
Updated: 2012-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-12 12:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has a hard time decided who's the wedge and which relationship that wedge is driving between.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Does The Rest Of The World Know There's No Stopping Us All?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pirateof221b](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=pirateof221b).



“Sure was nice of Jackson to invite us.” Stiles says.

Danny doesn't look as pleased, and his arm curls tighter around Stiles' waist. “He only invited you because you're pack, and he only invited me because of you.”

“He didn't _have_ to invite us. We're we're gonna something else at Derek's as a pack thing—”

“Stiles,” and for a moment Stiles thinks he as a complex of being overly fond of people who have that same kind of lovingly reprimanding voice, “don't get your hopes up, okay?”

Stiles sighs in frustration. “I'm just sick of him. I don't like that he's taking out his anger on you, you're supposed to be his best friend.” Stiles crosses his arms and turns, almost twisting out of the grasp but not quite. “It just blows.”

Danny laughs and pulls Stiles closer; he kisses Stiles' temple. “Thanks.”

Stiles doesn't look completely pacified, but he's smiling a little. He turns and presses himself against Danny, laughing against his jaw. “I'm sorry.”

“Still not sorry.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and mutters something about 'complete mushy romantic goof of a boyfriend' and leans up to kiss said boyfriend. Lydia coughs with a grin as she passes by, and Danny flips her off before Stiles can. Stiles laughs and Danny gives in, kissing him. They stay like that, exchanging soft and timid kisses against the wall as partygoers walk by them without a second glance.

Finally, when their lips feel tender and electric, Jackson clears his throat to get their attention.

“Hey Jackson,” Danny greets. Stiles shifts so that his back is pressed against Danny's chest, and glares at Jackson for all he's worth.

“Hey.” Jackson does that thing where his eyes get really wide and he swallows, like he's fighting this internal war with himself. Like he's stopping himself at every turn. His shoulders roll, but remain tense. The awkward silence stretches as does Stiles' irritation. Jackson opens his mouth, closes it, opens it and closes it again before heaving a sigh through his nose.

“Right, well, not that you aren't a fantastic conversational partner, Jackson,” Stiles snaps, “but one can only look at your pretty face for so long before wanting to punch it, so.” He takes Danny's hand, mumbles an apology to him, and pulls him away from Jackson.

Stiles is only slightly glad that they took his Jeep to the party. It gives him more time to usher Danny into the passenger's side without actually explaining anything, it gives him a chance to stave off all conversation until they're on the road, away from the party.

Understandably, Danny is mad.

“What was that?”

Except, when Danny is mad, he's worse than a parent. He's got the same voice, the disappointment and anger a swirling mix of tones, coming out in a bone-chillingly gentle scolding. Stiles would know, he's been the brunt of the voice numerous times in the past six months.

“That was me.” Stiles says simply, biding his time, “being a dumbass and making things worse?” He tacks on, apologetic and seconds away from trying to throw himself out of his own car. Danny shakes his head, and it takes Stiles a minute to realize he's _laughing_. “You're not mad?” Stiles bites the inside of his cheek.

Danny's hand comes across the middle seat and rests on Stiles' knee. He doesn't say anything, so Stiles takes comfort in the way Danny's thumb rubs across his knee.

)

Later, Stiles feels guilty when Danny only stays long enough to watch an hour of _Jeopardy!_ and split a box of Mongolian beef. He knows it's his fault, he knows that he probably just drove the wedge between Danny and Jackson in further. He knows Derek has been threatening to kick Jackson out of the pack since he's already acting like he doesn't have one. Things are basically where they were before—Jackson alone and blatantly ignoring the impact it has on everyone else.

Stiles kisses Danny goodbye at his doorstep, then drives back home feeling too empty inside.

He's still tossing and turning by the time his dad gets home. His dad peeks in, and sighs at Stiles' back before retreating to bed. Stiles still hasn't gotten even a moment of sleep by the time the sun is starting to rise. It's then that he rolls over and grabs his phone.

 **To: Ex Godzilla  
** _hey can we talk?_

)

Stiles never gets a reply text, but he does get dragged to the lacrosse field the following Monday, by the _ear_ he might add, before he can even say hi to Danny. Of course, it's Jackson that's dragging him there, looking sour and upset and weak, not that Stiles would ever say any of that outloud. Finally, once they're sufficiently hidden beneath the bleachers, Jackson rounds on Stiles with a glare.

“What do you want to talk about?” He snarls out, and Stiles barely tamps down the urge to congratulate Jackson and give him one the gold stars he keeps in his bag for when the pack does something right.

“Danny.”

Jackson visibly tenses. But he doesn't run.

“You guys are best friends.” Because as far as Danny feels, Stiles knows there's no 'were' to speak of. They still _are_ best friends, Danny says, even if Jackson is a complete _dick_. “And we're boyfriends.” He wants to wince, because hello awkward phrasing, but it slides without comment. “And I want him to be happy, and he is—but he misses you, dude.”

Jackson bristles, and Stiles fears for his safety for a moment. Now is really a godawful time to wolf out, and he's about to tell Jackson so before thinking that won't help matters at all. “You took him from me!” He shouts, just like Danny said he would. “He was all I had!” Jackson looks terrifyingly close to tears.

Stiles knows he's about to handle this all wrong, but someday he and Danny will look back on it and laugh and Stiles will blame it on love. “You've taken everything from _him_! Boyfriends, friends, he can't just have _you_ , Jackson, you aren't _enough!_ ” And fuck, fuck, fuck Stiles knows that if there's one thing you shouldn't tell the self-deprecating orphan werewolf with more issues than Entertainment Weekly, it's that he isn't _enough_. “No, Jackson, shit I didn't mean it like that.” Stiles can't breath, he can't find the words.

Jackson isn't even wolfing out, he's just staring back at Stiles, blank and unseeing.

“Jackson, you're his best friend, but you can't be his _only_ friend, it isn't fair to him.” Stiles takes a few cautious steps forward, hands up in a surrender gesture. “I don't want to come between you two. I hate seeing him like this, seeing him without you.” Stiles stops when the toes of their shoes are touching. “But you can't—it can't be _just_ you.”

Jackson grins, and that's worse than him wolfing out. “Did you ever think that _maybe_ I don't want to _just_ be his friend?” He growls and bites in Stiles' direction before walking away, making sure to step on Stiles' foot as he passes. Stiles stays shock still, because if he'd been expecting a verbal reply from Jackson, it really wasn't _that_.

)

Stiles scrambles into first period late, and Scott gives him a confused look, and Stiles winces when the history teacher gets him with detention. Honestly, it's like the whole school faculty has it out for him to spend the majority of his high school career in detention.

)

Rather than being stuck in Mr. Harris' own personal detention, Stiles gets sent to the one full of the regulars; the kids who go out of their way to end up in the extra room of the library, being haphazardly watched over by the librarian as they text and talk shit. Stiles fears for his safety, because some of these kids have _tattoos_ and he hurries to a seat in the far back, busying himself with pretending to do homework.

He makes a totally manly squeaking noise when a shadow looms over his desk. His first thought is Derek, but remembers that the alpha had promised not to creep on school grounds unless it was an absolute emergency. His next idea is Scott but Scott is probably with Derek, so no. Then Danny—of course, it's Danny, who would purposefully land himself in detention to be with Stiles and possibly save him from the shiv hiding in the Eminem-wannabe's pocket.

He looks up, smiling and giddy, and squeaks again because that's so not Danny standing over him.

“Hey Jackson.”

Jackson nods, eyes wide, you know just how he is normally.

“Uh, here to talk?”

“I told the librarian that you're supposed to be tutoring me.

Stiles shoves his things into his bag and follows Jackson out of the library without complaint. They stop by Stiles' Jeep.

“Come to my house. We need to talk.” Jackson doesn't look at Stiles, and he feels tense and uncomfortable, but Stiles nods. Hope is bubbling in his chest that maybe they can work this out. “Fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes.” Stiles agrees and all but throws himself into his car.

)

Jackson meets him at the front door, expression blank. Stiles follows him inside and up the stairs. Stiles feels the air shift, tension sliding as they walk into Jackson's room, all bland walls and _huge_ bed. Stiles shifts from foot to foot, bag weighing heavy on his shoulder. Jackson takes a seat at his desk chair, and motions for Stiles to sit on the bed. Stiles does.

“So...” Stiles starts, fidgeting in small gestures. “You're into Danny.”

Jackson looks like he wants to be pissed, but can't. “Yes.” He grits out.

“How long?” Stiles leans forward. “Because I'm gonna be honest, it kind of seems like you're just being greedy.”

“You think I'm _jealous_?” Jackson snarls.

“Uh, duh. Why wouldn't you be? It's like when Scott and Alison went to Scott and Alison land. You're a best friend scorned.”

“You don't _get_ it.” Jackson all but roars, standing. Stiles doesn't squeak, for once, but he does scramble backwards on the bed, raising a pillow to protect himself. “I have always been there for him! I'm supposed to be the one who makes him happy!”

Silence falls and Stiles is left with more questions than answers. “Dude, are you really one to talk? You dated Lydia!?”

“We had an agreement!”

“An agreement.”

“Yes.” Jackson seethes before continuing, “we—we were gonna try.” Jackson is worse at words than Stiles, and that's saying something.

“What, did you make a promise to each other in the second grade or something?”

Jackson's jaw twitches. “Not exactly.” He sits again. “We.. he's the only one who knew. that—that I might like guys.” Jackson is flushed a bright pink.

“Hey, no, don't get embarrassed. It's me you're talking to, remember?” Stiles tries for a grin and Jackson's tension gives a little.

“I always assumed.” Jackson seems unwilling to explain further, so Stiles figures the best way to get Jackson to talk is to humiliate himself.

“You know, when Scott and I were in the fifth grade, I asked him to marry me.” Stiles tells him easily, because it's true. He wore a suit to school and brought a little fake flower from his mom's fake plants to school. He looks pretty awesome, not gonna lie. “I asked him at recess one day, got down on one knee by the jungle gym. All that.”

Jackson looks like it hurts him to be amused.

“He said 'duh, dude' and that was that.” Stiles leans back, lowering the pillow finally. “It wasn't cuz I wanted to date him, not cuz I was really in love with him, but still. It's one of those stories, y'know?”

Jackson nods, and twiddles his thumbs. “I just figured we'd come.. come back together. After whoever else we dated we were there for each other.” Jackson won't look up. “And then _you_ came in.” He doesn't sound as angry anymore though. Just tired. Really tired.

“I'm not sorry.” Stiles says, his voice firm. “Danny—Danny is..

Jackson laughs, smiling sadly. “Yeah, I know. Believe me, I know.”

Stiles just stares at Jackson, who pointedly stares out the window. He scoots forward until his feet rest flat on the ground again. He leans towards Jackson and extends a hand. “Friends?” He asks. “If nothing else, for Danny's sake?”

Jackson meets his eyes, only as their hands touch, and nods. Stiles stands and takes it as his queue to leave. He bids Jackson a tentative goodbye, and when he doesn't get a response he figures it's safe to go.


End file.
